


Fidem

by orphan_account



Series: Memoriae [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, I Don't Even Know, Late Night Conversations, Nightmares, POV Third Person, Second War with Voldemort, canon divergence - people believe harry, i guess it's happy, it's a miracle, kind of happy, voldemort is back
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 16:04:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9131605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: fidem - faith.Harry hopes that people have faith in him. Hermione does.





	

Nobody believes him. None of them know that Voldemort is back (rather, they have been told about it, but they don’t believe it). None of them want to believe. And all of them hate him for what is out of his control.

Harry hates it, that nobody believes him. They’ve been proven wrong countless times, and he’s never, not once, lied to them, and still they choose to not believe him. Nobody but Hermione listens to him, and even then he can tell that she doesn’t really believe him. That is, until she does.

That day, he wakes screaming. The others in his dorm don’t hear him through the muffliato charm on his bed, one which he placed himself. Once he’s sure that nobody is awake, he slips out of the bed and tiptoes down to the common room, barefoot and still in his pyjamas. Breakfast first starts being served at seven, so Harry, with wand in hand, gently says, “Tempus.”

The time flashes across his vision, it’s only half five (he’s been woken up earlier by the nightmares), but that means one and a half hours to breakfast. One and a half hours to be… miserable, or whatever he wants to be. He decides he’d rather be whatever he wants than dictated by sadness.

Five minutes pass in relative silence, and then he hears footsteps. Footsteps, coming from the girls’ dorm, light like Hermione’s and definitely unlike Lavender’s.

“Hi,” he says, the words fading away into the silence.

“Hey,” Hermione replies, and now he knows it’s Hermione. “What are you doing up at this time?”  
“Nightmares,” Harry says, and he doesn’t elaborate any further. “How about you? Why are you up this early?”   
“Couldn’t sleep,” She says, truthfully as far as Harry can see. By that he means there is no sign to imply that she is lying. Or whatever.

So he explains. He tells her all about the graveyard. He tells her about how Pettigrew killed Cedric, _murdered_ Cedric, and how Voldemort gloated over killing him. Just recounting the events fills him with both an inexplicable sadness and an overcoming rage. A rage that fills his entire being.

And, to his surprise, Hermione believes him.


End file.
